Dateline: "He just made the smoothest invitation for sex ever…"
We're collecting stories about your most entertaining dates. Send your time-stamped dating stories to email@example.com; don't forget to include gender and age for you and your date.
7:32 p.m. – I walk up to the restaurant, checking my reflection out in the window one last time before I head in, then fully crash into my date when he turns out to be standing in front of the door as I am lost in my self-absorption. This is awkward, we joke. We laugh.
7:35 – Drinks please. Being a shameless recent college graduate, I've already pre-gamed with a few glasses of wine, but we order beers. Good. We determine that we both like Hoegaarden. He's a winner already.
7:36 – While we wait for drinks to come, talk inevitably turns to our jobs — mine consulting for a campaign, his on the Hill. Ugh, this will do until the buzz kicks in, I reason.
8:12 – The Senator said what?! Oh my God. That is like, the funniest thing I have ever heard.
8:56 – Okay, he's pretty charming. I like yoga, he thinks that's hot, he likes rock climbing, I think that's cool, he thinks maybe I should try it with him sometime? Yeah, that could be fun. He says his friends think he sounds like Owen Wilson. I close my eyes and listen. He's right — he has that nasally boyish tone — but it's surprisingly cute.
9:17 – I take a moment to tune out and gather some drunk perspective as he enters a monologue about one of his friends getting married. He's pretty sexy, but Jesus H. Christ, his ears are like bat wings. I wonder if he ever got bullied for those bad boys. That's shallow, don't think that! But what if our forecasted two sons and daughter inherit them and need years of therapy to become confident adults after all the teasing? This is something to consider. I refocus.
9:23 – Holy shit, he just made the smoothest invitation for sex ever, so smooth that I missed it initially. Let's rewind the tape:
9:22 – He's talking about his travels. He loves mountains. Loves reaching the top and looking out at the view for miles. I nod in agreement. His roof has a crazy view, actually — do I want to go up for a drink after dinner? Uh, sure, I'd love to see the view with a beer. Cool. He returns to his story about the mountains in New Hampshire. McKayla is not not impressed.
9:40 – Atop his roof. He does the slow-buildup-of-touch thing, starting by playing with my fingers, then draping an arm around my seat. I vaguely remember reading something in Cosmo about "older men" using this technique, and am briefly impressed with my awkward self for making it to almost-sex with one of these mystical beings.
10:05 – We head inside.
10:06 – He dramatically pushes me back on the bed and starts licking, then biting my arm. Heh, heh, this is a little early in our courtship for S&M play? I try to steer him back to gentle kissing, and he instead pulls my hair and licks my neck as he orders me to squeeze his side harder. He growls this. "Squeeze me, pretty girl, squeeze me harder."
10:07 – He rolls me over, kisses the back of my legs. "You have sexy legs, pretty girl, so sexy." Jesus, again with the growling, Buffalo Bill? When he rolls me back over, he is suddenly only wearing his boxers. I am baffled as to how he just undressed in the split second that I wasn't watching him, and laugh aloud. Oh no, he's insulted. He thinks I'm laughing at his skinny chest and polka-dot boxers. And fuck, his ears are huge when he's not wearing a shirt. "I really like you," I tell him, "but I don't want to have sex tonight." He sighs.
10:20 – He just wants me to stay the night, I should know that I'm safe here, we don't have to have sex, etc. We cuddle, me fully clothed, him topless in his polka-dot boxers. He strokes my hair. This is sweet. I could do this.
10:22 – That's enough cuddling, I roll away and feign sleep. Not to be deterred, he full-body mounts me in the spoon position, wrapping his skinny leg over my body and his arms around my chest. "Feel safe, pretty girl," he growls (seriously what the fuck), "but don't be scared if you feel a poke in the night" — he takes this opportunity to press his erection against my bottom — "BECAUSE YOU DID THIS TO ME."
10:23 – My phone vibrates. Vaguely aware that we have entered lampshade territory, I jump on my chance to leave. "I'll call you, I had a great time," I say, from halfway out the door. I doubt he believes me. This will be awkward to explain to our mutual friend who set us up.
10:30 – Text received: "Hope you have a good night, pretty girl 🙂 Ill see you soon." Ugh.